


Eight

by Izanagi



Series: Kings and Vagabonds [2]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Coming of Age, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Family Drama, Family Issues, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Parent-Child Relationship, Relationship Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:13:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28073766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Izanagi/pseuds/Izanagi
Summary: Their life as a family, fourteen years later.
Relationships: Male Jedi Knight | Hero of Tython/Lord Scourge
Series: Kings and Vagabonds [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2027815
Kudos: 4





	1. Broken Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 14 years later, Akira's rebellious streak rears its head when her father, Zephyr, refuses to train her in the ways of the Force. Temperamental and hot-headed as her other father, Scourge, she reaches her breaking point and snaps upon hearing refusal after refusal to train her.

_"Eights are self-confident, strong, and assertive. Protective, resourceful, straight-talking, and decisive, but can also be ego-centric and domineering. Eights feel they must control their environment, especially people, sometimes becoming confrontational and intimidating. Eights typically have problems with their tempers and with allowing themselves to be vulnerable."_

* * *

**I remember the minute**

**It was like a switch was flipped**

**I was just a kid who grew up strong enough**

**To pick this armor up**

**And suddenly it fit**

* * *

Zephyr exhales slowly as his own child glares at him again, crimson eyes blazing as she stands defiantly before his desk. He swallows thickly as he feels those claws of hurt squeezing his ribcage again, but years of training his own composure ensured that this lapse in weakness never surfaced on his face. He takes the time to look at her and a large part of him aches at sensing the deep-seated hurt she often tried so hard to deny from awareness.

She stands tall with shoulders drawn back in a defiant stance, her jaw rattling with the restrained force of her anger. Her long ebony hair jutted out sharply like the spikes on a nexu's back, a biological trait so eerily reminiscent of his adopted father's that it made his gut quiver with pain. She cut such a stunning figure that it nearly stole his breath, for so eerily similar was she to his own late mother before so perished at the hands of the Sith assassins sent after her. He was a mere child, but he never forgot her voice or her face, and to see the vestiges of her likeness carried on in his child was like taking a stroll down a memory lane. She had his mother's likeness, but so little of his mother's warmth. Fiery and passionate like Scourge, but with none of that patience, no wonder they often don't see eye to eye on many things anymore.

They used to, though.

Sometimes, he looks at himself in the mirror and wonders how and why did he go so wrong with raising their cub. She used to be such a jovial personality, gregarious and curious and filled with that wide-eyed type of innocence that craved adventures and new experiences. The Force was already strong within her, even then. But in the last few years, he sensed her connection to the Force becoming violently stronger and she suddenly became interested in the ways of the Force. It was then that he started seeing that small glint of hunger of knowledge in her eyes that would evolve into the beast he knows today. She certainly inherited the strong-willed tendencies of her fathers, and gazing at her now, he starts understanding why some of his past enemies have cowed beneath his will.

He already made up his mind years ago, but that has not stopped their daughter from confronting him, again and again, month after month, year after year. As she stands there still with the full blazing force of that adolescent anger, he looks at her and once again feels his resolve breaking a little. He looks on as a pang of sadness lances through him.

It isn't because he doesn't want to train her. No, for he would love nothing more than to do so. He wants nothing more than to teach and for her to learn how to hone her gifts in the Force. But as a father and as a leader to their people on Odessen, he cannot let personal sentiment blind him from the potential consequences of training her as his own apprentice too soon. She was still too vulnerable to the sway of her own emotions, a potential liability in the future if she is to be the leader of their own people. Their daughter still hasn't learned self-restraint, to conduct oneself in a disciplined manner. He cannot train her yet, because she hasn't mastered the art of disciplining the mind, the heart and the ego.

He cannot train her if her atttachments to her passions still burned too strongly and hotly for him to help her harness and guide them to a more proper channel. She must learn control above all else first.

"You know my answer to this, Akira," Zephyr answered strictly, keeping his face as neutral as possible, even if it feels like he is hanging by a thin thread. "I cannot train you. How many times must I repeat myself?"

"You've said enough, _father_ , but then I ask you this in turn," Akira sneered, her eyes flashing with a dangerous glint of rage and anger that felt too much for him to bear. The very air around her thrummed with the subconscious weight of her fury, and he finds it hard to stay cognizant when the full weight of an Alpha cub's demands tore at him. "What kind of a _father_ are you that you are willing to train anyone else in the Enclave, except your own flesh and blood?"

The force of those words nearly collapsed his lungs. He blinks a little too fast as the words swiped at his heart, tearing through him cruelly like the talons of a raptor. He flinches and sinks further into the chair, datapads and reports forgotten. He has to remind himself to breathe again when his pulse dips too low.

"What kind of a father are you! Raising me, making me believe I meant something when I should've seen the proof that points to the contrary!" Akira shrieked and with such violence and _hatred_ that his pulse nearly stopped. He shakes his head and fights through the pounding headache that suddenly spawned, forcing himself to meet her eyes. His heart nearly stops at seeing and feeling the tumultuous storm of hurt and rejection that are rolling off her in waves. "You never cared! _You never loved me!_ A father should love his sons and daughters. But _you never loved me_. Why else would you reject me? Your own flesh and blood? What have I done to make you think I was unworthy of your attention? Why?"

Heart pounding, he stares at her, breaths coming fast as a mounting force of heartache seizes his chest.

Teeth bared, even her eyes could never conceal their truth.

" _Why?!_ " Akira shrilled. "Tell me!"

The air snapped. Phantom fingers viciously coiled around his throat and he felt a cold trickle of mortal dread slithering down his spine when his body refused to obey his attempt to breath. His chest spasmed and he tried gasping, but the phantom fingers around his throat were clever and snapped their invisible fingers around the upper part of his throat, ruthlessly cutting it off. A pitiful squeak was wrenched from his gut and he was only dimly aware now of being lifted off the chair. The fire in his lungs burned so hotly and fiercely that he wanted to scream. His heart galloped thunderously and he was on the verge of slipping into oblivion.

And just as suddenly, everything vanishes and he drops on the floor like a sack of bricks.

The entire universe was spinning and he couldn't see or hear anything for a few seconds. The fire in his lungs receded and he tasted the cold shot of air bursting into his lungs as he greedily inhaled lungfuls of air. He heard the wheezing, whistle-like sound of his own breaths as he took another second to settle down. Once awareness of what just took place settled in, he feels a cold and ruthless cut digging into his heart, and wrenching it out with such callousness that it leaves him reeling again. He feels that cold hand of shock gripping his own beating heart, before crushing it between its fingers. The ruthless sting of betrayal devours what remains of his heart, and he finds himself sitting on the ground, numbly watching through clouded eyes. He vaguely senses the growling presence of the Force around Scourge in the room, crackling with barely restrained fury.

The adrenaline leaves and he slumps against the wall of his study, still weakly gasping for air. The cloud of fatigue settles above him and he shuts his eyes for a few moments to rest. He registers the sharp rebukes and near-screaming matches a few feet from him, but his neurons have long checked out of the scene that he barely comprehends anything. He suddenly feels decades older than he should, and it brings with it a burden. He suddenly wants to be free from obligation, and he selfishly entertains the thought. To be free of expectations, so that he can protect himself from the heartache that came from unknowingly failing to meet the unmet expectations of others.

He is tired, so tired. Tired of not being enough for anyone. Tired of trying to keep up with a fiery pair of people that still didn't know how to be gentle with someone as fragile as he was. He was tired of the constant conflict, anger, and absence of harmony that used to exist between them as a family. He was tired of having his own needs and wants smothered beneath the weight of their presences and personalities. He is suffocating, has been for a long time, but it seems like no one else noticed.

He loves them both. He loves them with every inch of every cell in his body, and there was nothing he wouldn't do to protect them and keep them safe. He loves them so much. He loves them to the point that he would sacrifice a whole planet of people if it meant securing their safety. But sometimes, he wonders if that love isn't enough to protect him from the worse they are capable of.

When he finds the strength to open his eyes, he finds them both looking at him. Scourge was leaning down on one knee, worried and concerned hands crawling all over his face and checking his pulse. He blinks owlishly and fights down the nausea that punches his gut when his eyes wander over to where his daughter was still standing a few feet away. He slowly trails his eyes up to meet hers, and sees the shock and the horror in those eyes. He has always been attuned to her emotions, and he could now taste the depths of her self-hatred and guilt swirling beneath.

He wanted to open his arms and hug her close to his heart. But, he doesn't have any strength left. He doesn't know what else he could do. Everything seemed precarious with her. Nothing he ever did now or said now was important enough for her to listen to, much less accept. His daughter was much closer to Scourge now in the recent years, and a part of that realization hurts. But perhaps what hurts the most is the accusation that he never cared or loved her as his daughter.

And, for the first time ever, he doesn't have the energy left to find a way to respond to these worries. He desperately doesn't want to leave it hanging in the air like a dangling womp rat, but at this moment, he can't find anything else to say. He has been numb for a while and if it makes her feel better about lashing out at him, then it's for the best, even if it cuts him deeply to the core. He reminds himself that she was still a child, still trying to make sense of her own place and identity in the world. Children are emotionally volatile and she was no different.

But still, even he has limits.

Scourge gently lifts him up, supporting him with those hands until he finally felt steady enough to stand on his own two feet. He breaks eye contact with his daughter, afraid to feel more overwhelmed. He takes another deep breath and lets it whistle past his nostrils before he gazes up at them.

"How do you feel?" Scourge gently asked.

Zephyr blinks sluggishly, inhaling deeply again. "I'm fine," he rasped.

He senses his Alpha trying to reach out to touch his shoulder but this time his body reacts before he could curb his instinct. He flinches away, away from both of them. He can feel them reeling back in shock, perhaps hurt a little, but who is to say he doesn't feel the same. He raises a hand to rub furiously at his forehead and he pinched his nose bridge. The corners of his eyes start burning, but he refuses to lose what remaining dignity he has left.

"I can't handle you both right now. You're both just too much for me," he said with a hoarse voice as he shook his head. "I - I need some space. To think."

He inhales shakily, removing his hand from where he was furiously rubbing between his eyes. "I don't think you both understand how exhausting it is. I'm - I'm tired of arguing."

Without another word, he slowly walks away from them, mindful to avoid where they were still rooted in their spots.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Family lore will be explored more thoroughly in this installment of the series. Long story short, Zephyr is the biological son of two parents who defied cultural expectations and escaped Dromund Kaas. Zephyr's biological parents were raised to be the Sith Lords of their own families but in true rebellious fashion, both of them escaped because they didn't want the trappings that came with tradition. 
> 
> Zephyr was too young to remember anything but his biological family was eventually found and murdered by Sith assassins that discovered them hiding out in some remote part of Rishi. His mother successfully protected him by eventually killing all of their attackers, but at the cost of her own life. And that is where his childhood background starts. He is found by Ryuken Hashibira, his soon to be adopted father, alone and frightened with the arms of his dead mother around him. 
> 
> Ryuken was a former Jedi Master who retired shortly after the fall of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. One important note to remember; in the family lore, the strongest Force-sensitive warriors of the Hashibira clan possess the ability to summon a corporeal spirit called "Ashura". Ashura are very powerful Force spirits that have made a pact of loyalty with the Hashibira founder in ancient times, causing them to be bound to the bloodline. As long as an heir is still alive, they will form a symbiotic relationship throughout a Hashibira'a lifespan. Hashibira that awakened their Ashura were devastating warriors on the battlefield, granting them increased strengtb and aggression far beyond normal humans.
> 
> The Hashibira clan is a bloodline of very emotional and passionate people. Ashura are Force spirits that thrive on human passion and lust for battle. Amongst the clan-exclusive Force knowledge are the blood adoption rituals, which enable the clan head to take in any outsider and modify their genetics, thereby causing them to be biologically related to the Hashibira bloodline. Zephyr was blood-adopted through the very same rituals by his father, Ryuken.
> 
> In the past, the Hashibira clan established a place of notoriety in their native world. Their power to awaken and use Ashura spirits made them so powerful in battle they often ended up being warmongers. Being so battle-hungry and the cause of most wars, they were eventually hunted down almost to the point of extinction. But a few of the smaller clans that remembered their allegiance to the time of the founder, remained loyal in their service. 
> 
> Now back to the main connection. Zephyr is the name his biological parents gave him, and out of honor for their memory, this is the name he often gives for others to use. But with his own people, Zephyr will go by the name his adopted father gave him, Ryuujin. More of the family history will be expanded on in lster chapters. 
> 
> If anyone's curious about how his father looks, just imagine Toji Fushiguro from JJK.


	2. The Hawk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takami is the youngest in the family. But youth doesn't determine maturity, and he finds his older sister, Akira, lacking desperately in that department.

Perched above the high branches of an ancient tree, the youngest child of the family watches the eldest sibling with a a critical eye. When he feels anger threatening to take over, he flares his nostrils and channels those emotions into the rock he held in his hand, splintering and cracking the rock.

Akira stared at the spot on the ground, as if suddenly recalling the vividness of what transpired hours before. Her hands trembled and she clenched them tightly as she gritted her teeth. She bares her teeth and draws back a fist before driving it home deep inside the core of a tree trunk. A violent burst of air flew from her fist and she grunts in surprise as the tree trembled. The youngest sibling watched as Akira suddenly snapped her gaze upwards, the legendary slitted crimson eyes that their clan is notorious for, digging deeply into his soul.

The remnants of the Hashibira Clan migrated from the planet, Shikoku, to Odessen after one of their seers received a vision from the Force. Learning that the last of their bloodline still lived, the surviving retainers of their late lord, Ryūken Hashibira, migrated in an effort to pursue their duty. While their father was not a direct descendant of the Hashibira forefathers, Ryūken adopted their father in his childhood, raised him as his own, and later bound him to the bloodline. A blood adoption ritual by way of ancient Force rituals modified their father's lineage, thus making him an eligible heir to the ancient power sealed in their blood. 

He stares back at her with an impassive gaze, but the neutral expression on his face doesn't do justice to the torrent of anger and rage battling within him.

"You almost killed _Otou-san_ ," he said quietly.

Her eyes darkened with agony and rage, and he idly wondered how she survived all these years, chained like a dog to her emotions. "Easy for you to say, _otouto_ , but you weren't the one living under his shadow for all your life," she sneered.

"You will never be his apprentice if you haven't learned to become the master of your own emotions," he said bluntly, "My Ashura is already awakened. And that only happened because I actually listened to Otou-san. You never listened to him. How long will you weep and whine like a pup? How long will you stay weak?"

As predicted, Akira gnashed her teeth and growled at him. "I will make you eat those words, Takami. I don't need Ashura to be strong. I'm the stronger one in the Force, even if that _kuso-jiji_ doesn't realize it."

Takami snorted, jumping off the branch and landing quietly on the ground. "Big words for one so small. Strength and power can be defined in many ways. There is a reason why Otou-san will never acknowledge you as a student. You are too hot-headed. If you still don't understand what you must do to achieve your goals, you are hopeless."

"You will never understand, Takami. So shut up. I will make him acknowledge me, even if it's the last thing I must do," Akira growled. Her crimson eyes blazes. "Nothing will stop me from becoming the strongest."

"And what did you lose in the process?" Takami replied sharply. "Everything. Your pursuit of power strained your relationships. You no longer care for him as your father. You no longer respect his place and authority. "

Akira snarls, turning her back to him. "Shut up. Don't assume you know what I believe."

"The world will never care about the beliefs of one so weak," Takami replied dryly, "Strength is the foundation of all things. Strength is the only language that is recognized by Force users. But strength without patience and self-control is a bird without wings."

He sensed Akira's posture stiffening but she remained quiet, depite the intensity of the anger radiating off of her in violent droves.

He turned his back and walked away, putting his hands in the pockets of his black joggers. "If you have dreams, then find the strength and power to pursue them. At this rate, I will inherit the seat of power, even if I detest it."


End file.
